Saturday, 26 February 2011

Too many Skittles will make your tongue burn. Too many ideas will...do the same thing to your brain.

They're really good at first: the tangy, tart coating dissolves all over your tastebuds causing chaos and a few peculiar facial expressions.  You bite into the candy and ahh, sweetness.  It's a little candy medley in your mouth.  It's like dissonance in your mouth (you know, the kind Stravinsky used in "Sacrifical Dance" from The Rite of Spring) followed by sweet, sweet harmony.  But only if you eat the right amount.. if you eat too many you get that awful sugar fire on your tongue that tells you "you should have stopped a long time ago, fool". 

I feel like that's how it goes with my ideas sometimes.  I have an idea-brilliant!  I fantasize about the prospects of that idea, spinning web after web of creative genius (ya, right) in my brain until I've set quite the trap for myself, unknowingly.  Guh!!  So I stand there, helpless and stuck, waiting for the spider (otherwise known as the death of creativity and motivation) to snatch me up for din-din. 

Daaaaang.  I hate it when that happens.  The worst part is that I can't even really decipher what my original idea was in the first place.  Was it to bake cookies for all of my neighbours?  Was I going to write a heart-felt letter to all of my former teachers?  What was it?! 

Today I woke up late (because it's Saturday kids, that's what you're supposed to do).  I ate a bowl of Reese's Puffs cereal because I'm a twelve year old and went back to bed for a nap.  Seriously?!  Well, I mostly just daydreamed about my future and all of the little creative projects I want to throw myself into-big and small. 

Big-make every girl on the planet realize how beautiful she is!
Small-Redo my bedroom.. it's pretty blah.

And so I scheme and I oggle and I think that I should probably do something nice for my coworkers, oh and how about setting up chats with all of my aunts so that I can get to know them better (ps. I have about 20) and on and on and on.  And yes, of course I want to accomplish all of it but then I find myself stumbling upon a rather vulgar (but hilaiously true) blog which of course leads me to her Twitter account (I'm pretty sure I hate Twitter) where she has posted a link to a quirky little gourmet mac n cheese restaurant called "homeroom". 

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!  That sounds like a fantasyland dream where everybody wins!

And the spin cycle starts all over again.  There are far too many things on this planet that I love.  Best of times.  Worst of times.  Plus, my friend just told me yesterday during our Skype date that he's about to embark on a whirlwind tour of Mexico-Kenya-England and planning on going to bible school in Chicago in the fall (which happens to be a pretty grand city if you ask me) and after that a two year stint in South America running bible camps.  Guhhhhh... 

It's really never-ending.  And it's actually a miracle that I'm content to be where I am and that God is giving me gracious amounts of patience to let him work through me.

So that's where I'm at as I sit in bed writing this, eating sour Skittles, and wishing that I had multiple bodies so that I could use at least one of them to completely ink myself in tattoos galore and get dreadlocks and a little hoop in my nose.  I want to really badly, but I know I won't because I'm not a fan of turtleneck sweaters and I know that to do what I want to do I'm probably going to have to forgo scripture verses in gangster cursive on my collar bone and an olive tree on my left side of my lower back and a mexican day of the dead skull on my neck.  Stupid.  But with a little foresight I can probably see that I wouldn't want any of that on my body when I'm 75 anyway, or 45 for that matter. 

So I'll stop eating Skittles before I burn my tongue and try not to race God with all of my "super cool" ideas.  There's a time and place.
...something about setting a good pace.
Slow and steady wins the race?   

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